San Juanico Bridge, Leyte, Philippines We made a mountain out of a molehill. Tourism is no skin-deep, it is light; hence, it is fun. Some dig tourism since they want to escape from their immediate lives and responsibilities and seek refuge from the not-so-familiar.
To Mt. Babag by Claire “Kikit” Apigo BWAB bloomsed this last year. Some posts here, I confidently assume, are worthy to be explored and rewritten; some posts to be trashed. With essays left unwritten and pictures unsorted, let me wrap 2011 with happiness and gratitude. This Last year’s wanderings affirmed and strengthened some old beliefs, some were unceremoniously replaced, some were found in the ship, jeepney, bus, plane. Itineraries are useless. Traveling happens the moment you are caught indecisive and seemingly lost. Traveling happens the moment you acknowledge the fact you’re lost, the moment you accept the truth that the place is a stranger. Traveling […]
THE cheeks are overly pinched. The eyes are shadowed with purple. The lips are painted red. The lips form a sickle. The mask smiles. Why do most masks smile? Happiness is hard to suppress. We wear it. Assuming it is contagious, it is our utmost intention to infect others with the happy virus. Or perhaps happiness is contrived. We exhibit our happiness as to make others covetous. Suffering fills the world, and happiness is the white dot on the black paper of suffering. Why do most masks smile? There is art in sadness. It requires discipline. Bending a concave into […]
A lot happened, some were rewarding, some surprising, some unwelcome, some outrageous. But May indeed was a rewarding month. I’m back on trails again. A call from a travel editor prodded me to reacquaint myself to the trails. Mountains, trails—they remind me of us, humans. They can be unpredictable, predictable. They can be selfish, inamiable, indifferent. The boyfriend said geography could not be selfish, humans could, are. “You were trying to personify geography,” he said. No, I wasn’t. It’s a cold fact. And nature has every reason to be. It reminds me of Arundhati Roy’s passage from her The God of […]